


Heart of Stone

by Disasteriffic_Kaz



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Case Fic, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-17
Updated: 2014-04-17
Packaged: 2018-01-19 17:22:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1477849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Disasteriffic_Kaz/pseuds/Disasteriffic_Kaz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in Season 1 after "Home", the boys run afoul of an obscure Greek nasty bent on mayhem. Written for the Livejournal SummerGen Fic Exchange.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heart of Stone

**Author's Note:**

> Had a blast with these prompts. I'm an armchair Archaeologist and being given the prompt to use something obscure from Greek mythology was brilliant fun. Cross-Posted on LiveJournal for the Summergen Fic Exchange. :D

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"Sammy, you screw with my pre-sets again I'm strapping you to the roof." Dean growled at his little brother and resisted the urge to punch him when he chuckled. "Hate this easy listening crap."

"I Thought it'd make a nice change from you making our ears bleed." Sam stretched his legs as well as he could in the front seat of the Impala and hoped they stopped soon. He was getting antsy after seven hours in the car. "Dude, I'm starving."

"You're actually hungry?" Dean chuckled. "Sign back there said there's a Biggerson's up ahead. We'll stop there. Grab some grub and you can find us a job. I need something to hunt."

"What? No coordinates from Dad?" Sam asked with a glance at him.

"Don't start, Sammy." Dean warned. He wasn't any happier about their father's disappearing act than he was, most especially after their eventful visit home. He still couldn't believe their Dad hadn't come. He gave a quick look to Sam's neck and the fading bruises still there from where he'd nearly been strangled by the damn poltergeist and shivered.

"I wasn't starting." Sam put his hands up in surrender. "I was just asking. I swear."

"Uh-huh." Dean wasn't buying it but he let it go. He pressed the gas a little harder, speeding up and enjoyed the throaty growl of the engine. It settled his nerves as she ate up the miles of asphalt.

An hour later, Dean sat back from the table in Biggersons with a satisfied burp and pushed his plate away. "Find anything yet?" He asked Sam who'd picked through his food while researching on his laptop.

"Hmm. Think so." Sam looked up and turned the laptop toward him. "We've got reports of people being attacked by, get this, some kind of Roman warrior." Sam grinned. "Full on Roman armor and stuff according to witnesses. They're beaten and left for dead but that's not the hinky part. Four of the five people attacked have since disappeared."

"So they get jumped, survive long enough to tell the cops and then vanish?" Dean nodded. "Sounds like our kinda job. Where?"

"Only four towns over from here. Harrisburg." Sam flipped the laptop closed. "The four missing vanished three days after the attacks. The current victim was attacked two days ago."

"So we should get our asses moving. Got it." Dean tossed a twenty on the table and stood with Sam on his heels. "A Roman warrior? This should be good."

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Harrisburg wasn't much too look at as they drove in at ten at night. Like most small towns the street rolled up well before midnight. Dean turned into a motel with a biker bar thumping hard music out a block down.

"Sleep and entertainment. Nice." Dean said and smirked at the disgusted look on his brother's face. "Hey, might need to make some money. Bikers are always good for hustling pool."

"Yeah like that biker bar in Maricopa?" Sam rolled his eyes. "Only reason they didn't blow your head off when they realized you were hustling them was cause the bartender had a bigger gun."

Dean scoffed. "I had 'em right where I wanted 'em. I was just biding my time."

"With your face on the floor. Right." Sam chuckled. He unfolded himself from his seat when Dean parked and stood, stretching his arms up and groaning with pleasure at being able to stretch properly.

"Could you be more freakishly tall?" Dean snorted. "You're scaring the poor kid in the office."

Sam looked over to the motel office and saw a teenager behind the desk staring open-mouthed at him. He chuckled. "I'll get us a room."

"Poor kid's gonna pass out you talk to him, sasquatch." Dean opened the door and let Sam in ahead of him. "Evening."

"Uh…uh hi." The boy stuttered, still watching Sam. "You're not gonna like…rob me or anything are you?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "We just want a room, man." He smiled at the kid. "Can we have a room?"

"Uh-huh." He smiled uncertainly up at them. "Yeah, sure."

Ten minutes later, Sam stepped into their motel room and scowled. "Dude, how about I go back to the desk and actually threaten that kid?

Dean chuckled and then groaned, getting a good look at the room. "We've stayed in worse."

The walls were brown and spotted in water stains while the ceiling was plastered in some sort of vaguely puke yellow. The carpeting was a disturbingly bright red that reminded Sam of drying blood. The beds were covered in spreads that matched the carpet while the two, threadbare chairs beside the table matched the unfortunate ceiling.

"At least there's a decent tv." Dean said grudgingly as he dropped his bag on the bed nearest the door.

"Is that a moose?" Sam asked and pointed to the shaggy, dusty head mounted over the television.

"I'm trying not to look at it too closely." Dean turned his back on the moosehead. "You know what hospital our guy's at?"

"Yeah." Sam waved his laptop before he set it down. "We need to get there fast."

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Lawrence Carver hummed as he walked home. His wife, he knew, would lecture him again about the idiocy of midnight walks home from the office when he could just as easily take a taxi. He smiled. He didn't want to waste the money. He wanted every penny saved he could manage for the anniversary get-a-way he was planning. Her face would be worth all the scrimping he was doing. The wind was blowing lazily down the street and other than the crickets, it was a quiet night. Lawrence looked happily at the houses as he passed and resisted the urge to skip like a kid. He settled for whistling softly instead.

"Stand, warrior."

"Huh?" Lawrence spun at the sound of the surprisingly bass voice behind him. "What the hell?" A woman stood towering over him in the kind of armor he'd only seen in period movies on the Roman empire; Golden armor, red tunic that fell to midway down her muscular thighs above knee length, armored boots. The golden braces on her arms glinted in the streetlight as she raised a wide, ornate short sword and pointed it at Lawrence.

"I would see if you are worthy, mortal."

"Worthy? No way." Lawrence spun and ran. He sprinted along the street, letting his briefcase fall aside as he swore to never roll his eyes at his wife again if he only he could get home. He fumbled in his pocket for his cell phone and cried out as his legs were taken out from under him.

"I said stand." The warrior stared down at Lawrence with piercing red eyes and lowered the tip of her sword to his throat. "We shall see if you are worthy." Lawrence screamed for help into the night.

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Dean rolled his eyes as they slipped past the hospital's front desk and its inattentive security guard. "Love it when they make it easy for us." He said to Sam and they hopped in the nearest elevator. "You sure the guy's up here?"

Sam nodded. "The nurse I spoke to said he was in a ward on the third floor recovering." The doors opened and they stepped out onto a quiet ward. The nurse at the nearby desk looked up with a smile.

"Can I help you boys?" She asked and batted long lashes at them, enjoying the double dose of hot and studly that had gotten off the elevator.

"Yes, ma'am." Dean sauntered over to the desk and leaned over to look at her. She was gorgeous and buxom and he felt every naughty nurse fantasy he'd ever had come bubbling up. "You can tell me when you get off."

Sam cleared his throat and kicked one of Dean's feet. "We're here to visit Fred Cavanaugh. We're friends of his."

"Oh Mr. Cavanaugh!" She smiled at them. "That poor man. He hasn't had any visitors except the police you know."

"If you could tell us what room he's in?" Sam asked kindly while tugging Dean's arm.

"Just down the hall there." She pointed. "I'm Nurse Nancy by the way." She turned a brilliant smile on Dean. "If you're interested."

"Oh I'm interested." Dean grinned and leaned back on the counter.

Sam kicked him again. "Time to go see Fred, Dean." Sam hooked the back of his belt and tugged him away from the counter and the nurse with a roll of his eyes.

"I'll be back." Dean told her with a leer and followed his brother down the hall. He looked up and slapped Sam up the back of the head. "What's with you?"

"Me? What's with you?" Sam hissed. "We're on a job and you're trying to get in the Nurse's pants? Grow up, Dean."

"Sometimes I wonder if you're really my brother." Dean groused and turned to throw a last smile at the Nurse who was still watching them. "That is a fine piece of…"

"Shut it." Sam cut him off and shook his head. "One of these days your libido is gonna get us in trouble."

"I think someone needs to spend more shower time with his libido." Dean said and laughed as they reached the door while Sam groaned. He stepped in the room and found Mr. Cavanaugh sitting up in bed looking as though he'd gone five rounds with Tyson. "Hello Mr. Cavanaugh."

"Hello?" Fred looked up showing them two black eyes, a broken nose, split lip and a line of stitches across his forehead.

"Hi. We're detectives with the local P.D." Sam smiled and went to stand by the bed. "I know you've already done a lot of talking about your attack but we were hoping you could run through it one more time for us."

Fred sighed and let his head drop back. "I don't what more I can tell you." He raised a shaking hand to his head. "She beat the crap out of me."

"Wait." Sam leaned in, surprised. "She?"

"Yeah. Some crazy chick in fancy dress with a sword!" Fred waved an arm weakly. "I thought she was just, you know, screwing around at first and then she…she hit me." He coughed and looked away.

"Did she say anything?" Dean asked. "Before she put the smackdown on you?"

"Yeah she kept saying this crazy crap about proving my worth or something." Fred groaned and covered his face. "I need…I need to rest."

"Of course. We'll let you alone now." Sam patted his shoulder. "Thank you."

Back in the hall, Dean pulled the door closed behind him and shook his head. "Dude got his ass handed to him by a chick?"

"A Roman warrior chick." Sam shook his head. "This is…weird."

"Ya think?" Dean went ahead of him and stopped at the desk while Sam went to the elevator. Dean used his time until it arrived flustering Nurse Nancy and had her phone number tucked into his pocket by the time it came.

"You have a problem, you know that?" Sam told him as they stepped into the elevator but he couldn't help the chuckle as the woman fanned herself as the doors closed.

"No, I've got skills little brother." Dean punched his arm. "Now how about we figure out what this chick is and how to gank her before she grabs our buddy Fred?"

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"I found it. I think." Sam said as Dean emerged from the bathroom, towel hitched around his waist.

"You think?" Dean raised a brow at him.

"I'm almost sure. Don't exactly have a lot to work with here." Sam leaned back and sipped his coffee. He grimaced as it had long gone cold. He'd spent most of the night awake researching. Sleep wasn't high on his list lately; not since seeing his mother's spirit. His nightmares had come back with a vengeance. The only thing he hated more than the nightmares was waking Dean up because of them so he'd avoided it altogether by not sleeping.

Dean grabbed his clothes and went back in the bathroom. "Well, spill." He called through the open door.

"I think we're dealing with an ancient Greek spirit." Sam pulled his research back up on his screen. "Took some digging but this sort of thing has happened a couple times before. Last time was about sixty years ago in California and before that in France."

"She gets around." Dean came back out and pulled on his shirt. "So she's some kind of goddess?"

"Not exactly. They're called the Hysminae." Sam turned the laptop around so Dean could see the picture he'd pulled up. "They were the Greek personification spirits of fighting and combat. Three sisters."

"Whoa." Dean looked closely at the image of a marble relief. On it were three women dressed as warriors with various weaponry in combat poses. "So why are they beating up unsuspecting guys?"

"From what I've found they're tied to an amulet holding their essence. Someone puts on the amulet and the Hysminae are released." Sam shook his head. "Don't ask me how they're released. The Lore's blank on that one."

"Do we know how to gank them?" Dean grabbed his brother's coffee and took a sip. "Gah. Dude this is cold. How long have you been up?"

Sam avoided the question. "We have to destroy the amulet. Smashing it is enough but we have to do it while the Hysminae is wearing it."

"Why do I get the feeling we're missing something?" Dean set the cup back down and took a moment to study his brother; dark eyes in a pale face told him Sam hadn't gotten much sleep if any. "We need coffee."

"I need to check out the local library. Odds are someone bought the amulet in an auction recently." Sam closed his laptop, sliding it in its bag.

"Food first." Dean ordered.

"I thought you said coffee?" Sam smirked at him.

"And food. Come on, Gigantor." Dean pulled the door open and waved Sam out ahead of him.

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"This does not look like the house of a guy who spends a hundred grand on a freakin amulet." Dean studied the unassuming two story house in front of them with its untended lawn and faded paint. It hadn't taken Sam long to find the record of a sale of the amulet and even less to find the guy's name and address.

"Maybe he's just a really dedicated collector." Sam offered as they walked up the cracked sidewalk to the porch.

"Or an evil male witch or some crap." Dean brushed a hand at his back, making sure his Desert Eagle was where it belonged just in case. He knocked loudly on the door and then stood back to wait. "Guy doesn't even mow his lawn." The door opened to reveal a short man in his forties with a receding hairline and glasses.

"Hello?" He looked carefully between the two tall men on his porch.

"Andrew Fallwell?" Sam asked and the man nodded. "Hi. We're from the Carmedie Auction House. We're here to do a follow up on your purchase."

"Really?" Andrew blinked owlishly at them. "Um, ok. Come in I guess."

They followed him inside and into a cluttered living room. There were coffee mugs everywhere, blankets piled on one end of the couch and heavy drapes pulled to block out the sunlight. "Sorry about the mess." He ran a hand through his black hair. "I haven't been, uh, sleeping well."

"Sorry to hear that." Dean moved a pile of magazines off a chair and sat. "So, how are you liking your amulet?"

Andrew seemed to flinch and sat heavily on the couch. "It's uh…it's fine."

Sam exchanged a look with his brother and sat beside Andrew. "Is something wrong with it?" He asked gently. "Maybe something a little…strange that you think we wouldn't believe." Andrew's eyes darted between them and he unconsciously rubbed at his chest.

"Dude, you can tell us." Dean leaned forward intently. "We won't laugh."

"I…well I put it on." Andrew closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I put it on and I can't get it off."

Sam leaned back, surprised. "Can we see it? Maybe we can help."

Andrew paled but after a moment he nodded. He reached shaking fingers to his shirt and began to unbutton it. He pulled it apart and for a moment Sam stared, unsure what he was looking at.

"Is that…" Sam leaned closer to get a better look and his mouth fell open in shock. "Holy crap."

"What?" Dean stood and came around the table, leaning down over Andrew and then jerked back. "It's inside him?"

Andrew gave a small whimper. "I put it on and…it just…I don't understand." He looked up at them with watery eyes. "How's this even possible? I want it off! It gives me nightmares."

"No kidding." Dean leaned back in to study it. The amulet of the Hysminae had somehow embedded itself within Andrew's chest above his heart. It was barely visible below the surface of his skin; the red jewel in its center pulsing softly in the dim light. "Why'd you even buy this thing?"

"What kind of nightmares?" Sam asked instead and watched Andrew shudder.

"They're bizarre. In them I'm this…well warrior but I'm a…" He trailed off, reddening and Dean guessed.

"You're a chick." Dean nodded with him. "Weird get-up like something out of Gladiator?"

"Yeah!" Andrew nodded emphatically. "How did you know?"

"Dude, haven't you seen the news?" Dean asked incredulously and gestured to the tv in the corner of the room.

"I don't really watch tv." Andrew shrugged. "I like books and ancient Greek culture." He smiled wanly. "That's why I bought it. Seems so silly now but I wanted a piece of ancient Greece."

"We need to remove it." Sam told him soberly. "Would you let us try?"

"Why? I mean I want it out but…" Andrew glanced at Dean. "Why'd he ask about the news?"

"Andrew, people are being attacked by a woman dressed like an ancient Greek warrior." Sam told him softly and watched him pale even further. "I don't think you are having nightmares."

"Oh my god." Andrew's hands hovered over his chest. "Then they're dead? Oh god they're dead! Am I killing them?"

"We don't know that anyone's dead yet." Sam said though he was sure the missing were well beyond hope.

"No, no they're dead. I see them." Andrew closed his eyes miserably. "In my nightmares. She kills them."

"How are we gonna get it out?" Dean asked quietly and Sam pulled out his pocket knife, raising a brow. "Awesome. Hey, Andy. How are you about pain?"

"Huh?" Andrew opened his eyes and then stared at the small blade in Sam's hand.

"We're going to try cutting it out, Andrew." Sam told him calmly. "I'll be as careful as I can."

"Oh…oh god." Andrew's face paled further, his breathing close to hyperventilating.

"Whoa, dude. Breathe." Dean snapped his fingers in front of the man's face, trying to get his attention. "It'll be ok. We've got a topical anesthetic. You won't feel a thing."

"Ok. Ok." Andrew closed his eyes and focused on his breathing.

"First aid kit, Sam." Dean told him. He searched the house while Sam was outside and finally found a bottle of whiskey tucked away in the kitchen. He grabbed a glass tumbler from the sink and went back into the living room. "Here you go, Andy. Liquid courage."

Sam came back in and set the first aid kit on the coffee table. "Dean." He pulled him away while Andrew downed another glass of whiskey. "Checked the news while I was out there. There's been a death. Guy was attacked last night and killed."

"Well shit." Dean looked over at Andrew. "Let's not tell him. He'll freakin hyperventilate."

Sam nodded and went back to the table. "Ok, Andrew. Lay back for me." He opened the kit and pulled out the small bottle of anesthetic and a wad of gauze. Andrew lay as still as he could, flinching as the cold cream hit his chest. His eyes widened as Sam raised the small blade and poured alcohol over it. "Breathe, Andrew." Sam told him but to no avail. Andrew's eyes rolled back in his head and a moment later he was unconscious.

"Well, it's better this way." Dean poured himself a shot of whiskey. "He'll sit still."

Sam lowered the knife to Andrew's chest and then drew back. "Dean?" The amulet beneath the skin pulsed, the jewel beginning to glow. Sam stood to get clear and then was thrown backward by an explosion of light.

Dean grunted as he was tossed into the wall. He shook his head to clear the cobwebs and looked around. Sam was a few feet away and rolled to his stomach as he watched. "Sammy?"

"M'okay." Sam groaned and put a hand to the back of his head, finding a warm wet trickle of blood. "Think…we're in trouble." He looked up and gasped. Where Andrew had lain now stood a woman; tall, muscular and dressed in Greek armor.

"Stand, warriors." Her voice was laced with power and filled the room.

"Nope." Dean stood and drew his gun. He aimed and fired in one fluid movement and smiled as the bullet took her between the eyes, just beneath the helmet. It threw her head back and around yet when she should have fallen to the floor, she straightened instead to look at Dean. "Oh crap." The bullet pushed itself from her forehead to rattle onto the floor.

"Now we shall see if you are worthy." She drew her sword. She advanced on Dean and then turned suddenly, bringing her sword in a sweeping arc toward Sam's head.

"Sam!" Dean cried a warning and lunged at her unprotected back.

Sam gasped and dropped to his knees, ducking under the sweep of the blade. He caught her arm on the backswing and swept her legs from under her as Dean drove his elbow into the back of her neck. She fell to her knees, her sword clattering onto the floor and under the coffee table. Before Sam could get his legs back under him she whipped one fist out and took him in the side of the head. He tumbled to the side with spots obscuring his vision.

"Oh, that's it bitch." Dean pulled the knife from the small of his back. He kicked the arm she threw at him and tackled her as she lunged to her feet. He scowled when she began to laugh.

"Finally a fight!" She wrapped her hands around Dean's knife arm and pulled him forward as Sam jumped her from behind, wrapping his arms around her neck.

"Let him go!" Sam ordered and then grunted in surprise when she turned in his grip, forcing Dean's knife across his side. It bit into his skin, through his shirts and sent pain radiating up into his chest but he kept his grip.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean pulled on his arm, trying to tug it free. The warrior drove her armored knee up into his stomach and dropped him to the floor. She twisted the knife free of his grip and brought it down across his back in a long slash before kicking him away. The blood spattered in an arc up into the air and across the ceiling as she drew it back with a grin.

"Enough!" She reached behind her head and took hold of Sam's shoulder. She pulled him over her own in an impressive display of strength and hurled him on top of his brother. "We will see each other again. I deem you worthy warriors." A brief flash of lightning filled the room and she was gone.

"Sammy?" Dean groaned and pushed at the heavy body on top of him.

"Yeah." Sam swallowed against nausea as his head swam and managed to roll off his brother and thump to the floor. "Ow."

"I hate that bitch." Dean growled and pushed himself up against the wall. He hissed in pain, hot agony searing across his back from the knife wound and made him hunch over. "You ok?"

"Been better." Sam made to sit up, froze in pain and let his head thump back to the floor. He covered his right side with his hand and tried not to think about how much blood he could feel.

"That does not look ok." Dean leaned forward and pushed Sam's hand out of the way. Panic momentarily took hold of him at the sight of so much blood but waned slightly when he got a look at the wound. "It's shallow. Just long." He pulled a cover off the arm of the nearby chair and folded it before placing it against the wound. "Hold that on it. You're gonna sport some of my handiwork."

"Fantastic." Sam groaned and sat up with Dean's help. "By the looks of that stain on the wall, you're gonna need some of mine." He nodded to the blood smear from Dean's back behind him and then looked around the room. "Andrew's still gone?"

"Which means Amazon queen is still around somewhere." Dean struggled to his feet, pulling Sam with him. "Ah hell. Fred."

Sam sighed. "No way we get there in time to save the guy."

Dean shook his head. "I'll call from the road. Come on." They stumbled outside, leaning on each other into the surprisingly bright day. Somehow the sunlight, chirping birds and laughing children felt wrong after what they'd just witnessed.

"We need to get to the car before those kids see…this." Sam gestured at his bleeding side and the bloody, rent back of Dean's jacket. "Someone'll call the cops."

"Well stop shuffling then." Dean pulled him into a faster walk and hastily got him in the passenger door of the Impala. He moved as quickly as he could to the driver's side and still heard a child behind them yell about the bloody man. "Crap." He slid behind the wheel and gunned the engine, getting them out.

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"Stop squirming." Dean grabbed Sam's shoulder as he flinched away from the alcohol pad Dean pressed into the wound on his side.

"We'll see how you…squirm when I do this…to your back." Sam was fighting not to black out and stay upright. He knew it would be easier for Dean to stitch the wound if he was vertical. "Maybe you should let me…do your back first."

Dean snorted. "Right." He was hurting but he could tell the wound across his back was shallow. Sam's side on the other hand stubbornly refused to stop bleeding. It needed stitching now. "Just hold still. Keep your arm up."

"Trying." Sam raised his right arm again as Dean bent in with the needle and thread. The first bite of the needle made him jerk. "Sorry." He dropped his head and concentrated on breathing and tried to ignore the short stabs punctuating the deep throb that was his side.

Dean worked as quickly as he could. It was clear Sam didn't have a lot left in him. His arm was dropping again and Dean took it and rested it on his shoulder. "Just keep it there, Sammy." Sam only nodded, not even opening his eyes. He finished the rest of the stitches quickly and poured alcohol over his handiwork as Sam's head was nodding forward. He jolted upright with a gasp.

"Crap!" Sam shouted and blinked groggy eyes. He'd been close to unconscious.

"All done, tiger." Dean grinned. "Your turn."

Sam nodded and stood shakily. "Shirt off." He wanted badly to go fall in his bed and not move but Dean needed him. He kicked the bloodied rags away from the chair and shook his head to fight off the need for sleep. Dean looked at the little armchair and sighed. "Yeah, go lay down. Be easier that way." Sam smirked and picked up the first aid kit, following him to the bed. He groaned and lowered himself to the edge of the bed.

"You sure you can do this?" Dean asked, concerned but Sam nodded.

"Yeah I got this." He waited for Dean to flop onto the bed on his face and hissed in sympathy. A long, narrow slice ran from Dean's left shoulder almost down to his hip. "She did a number on you." It wasn't bleeding anymore and thankfully it really only needed stitches at the top of the wound. Sam steadied his shaking hands and set about cleaning it.

"Bitch cleaned our clocks, Sammy." Dean tried not to writhe in pain as Sam wiped disinfectant down the cut. "We gotta do better next time."

"Well we have three days to figure something out." Sam told him and smiled when Dean turned his head in surprise. "We follow the pattern, Dean. She said we were worthy warriors."

"Ah crap." Dean buried his face back in the pillow when Sam took up the needle and thread.

"I don't know if we can take her down without killing Andrew." Sam said sadly. "He'll never stay awake long enough for us to remove the Amulet and even if he could, I don't know that we should. I need to do more research." He ground his teeth together. "I missed it, that she emerges when he's unconscious."

"She's an obscure Greek freakin god, Sammy. Bet Dad would have missed it too." Dean said, hoping that would make him feel better.

"She's not a god exactly, not in the traditional sense. She's an abstract." Sam corrected him absently. "Like a Muse."

"Oh. My mistake, geek boy." Dean rolled his eyes and flinched under the needle. "Felt pretty damn 'stract' to me."

Sam snorted and then hunched against the stab of pain it caused. "Don't make me laugh. Please?" He gritted his teeth to finish the stitches and Dean ended up with a swathe of bandages down his back. "You look like the Mummy."

"Then go lay down before I put a curse on you." Dean rolled to his side and sat up carefully to get a good look at his brother. Sam was beyond pale, translucent was a better word for him with a sweat broken out across his brow from making himself stay up so long.

"Need a shower." Sam grumbled and stood then ended up turning and sitting hastily on his own bed. "Ok, maybe in the morning." He eased down to lay on the bed and closed his eyes with a happy moan.

Dean chuckled softly and stood. He knew Sam would say they had three days before the Hysminae would come for them but he wasn't going to take the chance. He pulled the salt canister from his bag and poured a quick line at the door and another at the window. Sam was already snoring softly and he tossed the other side of his blanket over top of him. Dean set the salt down and dropped a quick hand to Sam's forehead and frowned.

"Don't you pull a fever on me, Sammy." He said softly, feeling the over-warm skin. Dean wondered if there was any way to hold the Hysminae off from taking them, even temporarily if Sam was going to become sick from his wounds. He shook his head and crawled into his own bed. Nothing was ever that simple.

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"Uh oh." Sam said and sat back from where he'd bent over his laptop.

"What uh oh?" Dean looked up from cleaning his favorite gun with a frown. "Uh oh is never good."

"We have to kill her in Hysminae form. If we remove the amulet from Andrew, the Hysminae gets total control. Forever. If Andrew dies she gets total control." Sam sighed and brushed damp hair from his forehead.

"So unless we kill her, she gets to what? Roam the earth forever beating the crap out of unsuspecting guys?" Dean raised his brows and groaned when Sam nodded. "Awesome."

"We have to crack the Amulet while it's in her chest then remove it and smash it after she's dead." Sam looked sadly back at the screen. "He's gonna die, Dean."

"I know, kiddo." Dean wasn't happy about it either but he'd already guessed the unfortunate Andrew wasn't going to make it out of this. "Let's not tell him, ok? He doesn't need to know that."

Sam nodded. "I just wish…" He trailed off and closed his eyes. Killing the Supernatural was one thing but innocent humans, and Andrew was innocent, even possessed made him itch with guilt. "This job sucks."

Dean said nothing. He agreed. He wasn't looking forward to going another round with the Amazon queen after she'd handed their asses to them once already. Sam was working hard to not give in to the fever that had set in his wound and Dean was helping, pumping him full of antibiotics from his last score at a clinic.

"They found another one." Sam turned the laptop to face him. "The second person that went missing after he was attacked. Looks like he was in a war according to this."

"Or a death match." Dean said soberly. "She's hot on using that sword of hers so I say we just shoot the damn Amulet after she takes us." Dean smiled. "She aint Indiana Jones. We can give her a lead infusion."

Sam chuckled. "Bring the guns but I'm betting she's thought of that." He shrugged. "Wouldn't be much of a match if everyone she nabbed showed up with a firearm and we can't be the first to have thought of it."

"Dammit, Sam. Don't burst my bubble." Dean kicked the leg of his chair under the table. "I could use a little optimism here."

"Ok. Optimistic. There'll be two of us." Sam gave him a lopsided smile. "We'll outnumber her." Dean nodded and went back to cleaning his Desert Eagle. "Of course, we're already the walking wounded so I'm not sure that counts."

"Sammy." Dean warned and threw the oil stained rag in his hand at Sam's head.

"Sorry." Sam batted it away. "Back to two of us. How about this? Dad taught us to fight dirty."

Dean chuckled. "I know we have some moves she's never seen." He set the gun down and leaned back. "We need a secret weapon."

"Oh, right. Sorry. Left all the secret weapons in my other pants." Sam shook his head. "I've looked, Dean." He felt as though he was failing somehow, though he'd spent hours buried in research looking for something they could use against her. "There's nothing."

"Every supernatural freakin creep we've fought has had a weakness. Silver, holy water, fire, dead man's blood, something! There's gotta be something." Dean rubbed a hand over his face in frustration.

"There's just the amulet. Pierce it in her chest and she's done." Sam shrugged. "She's a deity. Maybe they don't come with weaknesses."

"Awesome." Dean started packing up the cleaning equipment. "How's your side?"

"As good as your back." Sam replied and smirked.

"Right." Dean rolled his eyes. Per the usual Winchester rules, unless you were unconscious or already dead you shrugged off the injury and did the job.

Sam's phone rang just then. He fumbled it from his pocket and checked the display. "It's Andrew. I left a card on his table when we we're gonna try cutting it out." He flipped it open. "Hello?"

"Sam. Hey." Andrew's voice was tired. "Look, I…The other guy's dead." He said softly. "I saw it in my dreams."

Sam sighed. "It's ok. It's not your fault."

"Yeah it is." Andrew's voice had a depressed quality to it that made Sam nervous. "These people are dying because of me and this stupid amulet."

"Andrew? Where are you?" Sam asked suddenly getting a bad feeling.

"I'm gonna end it, ok?" Andrew told him.

"Crap." Sam lowered the phone. "I think he's about to kill himself. Andrew." He put the phone back to his ear as Dean sprang out of the chair and started collecting weapons. "You don't want to do this."

"I do, Sam. I know you guys were trying to help but…this is the only way." Andrew gave a muffled sob.

"No, Andrew. It's not. Tell me where you are. Please." Sam begged. If Andrew took his own life they were all screwed; the Hysminae would be forever released to roam the world. "Where are you?"

"The Hopewell Bridge." Andrew laughed sadly. "Lousy name for a bridge. Goodbye, Sam and….thanks for, you know, trying."

"Andrew? Dammit." Sam closed his phone when the line disconnected. He quickly pulled up the bridge's location on his laptop. "It's only five minutes from here. We've gotta hurry."

"Arm up." Dean was already strapping on a long knife, his desert eagle and another, smaller handgun he slipped down into his boot. "She's not catching us off guard again."

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Andrew stood on the railing of the Hopewell Bridge and stared down at the turgid river water below. Even in the dark he could see the white foam as it roared beneath him, swollen with spring runoff from the mountains far away. His thoughts were filled with visions of death; men skewered on an ornate short sword, the beaten as they bled and died, a head that rolled off into the night separated from its body.

"Stop!" He shouted into the night and rubbed his hands into his eyes. They were dying because of him; him and his stupid hobby collecting ancient relics. It was too much; the blood, the pain, the fear, they all weighed on his heart and he knew the next time he fell asleep there would be another face to join the others. He couldn't face it any longer. "Have to do it." He said softly and raised his left foot from the railing to hang over the five story drop. He let go his hold on the support beam beside him and tilted forward.

He grunted in surprise when something wrapped around his waist and yanked him back hard. Andrew hit the ground with a whoosh of air slamming out of his lungs and looked up to find Sam and Dean standing over him.

"I told you this wasn't the way." Sam said sadly.

"Remind me to tell you how bad you almost made this." Dean growled at him. "You ready?" He looked over to his brother and got a nod. "Time to dance." Dean leaned down and plowed his fist into Andrew's face. The man's eyes rolled back white and he went limp. "That felt good."

"Hang on to something." Sam grabbed hold of the railing beside them, his brother doing the same as a soft glow began to emanate from Andrew's chest. The light grew as it had before, becoming brighter and brighter until it was blinding. It exploded out in a sudden concussive wave. Sam felt himself picked up, his hand ripped from the rail and then blackness took him.

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"Sam. Sammy?" Dean rolled to his knees, shaking the cobwebs from his head and saw his brother pushing himself up beside him. "You ok?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah." He looked up and then stared. "Holy crap." They had been transported into what looked suspiciously like an ancient Greek arena. High, arch filled walls rose in a circle around them surrounded by stone benches into a sky gone to permanent night where no stars shone in the inky blackness. Torches guttered in sconces along the walls and he gasped as the Hysminae appeared on the other side of the arena.

"Uh, Sam. Your gun come with you?" Dean growled and found his own missing. In fact, every weapon they had stashed on themselves was gone; every gun and knife vanished.

"Dean." Sam pointed to the ground in front of them with a raised brow. Before them lay two short swords and two small, round shields on the ground. "I was afraid of this."

"I really hate this bitch." Dean glared at her across the sand as he bent and picked up the sword. He took up the shield and awkwardly slipped it on his left arm. "Also not happy about you being right."

Sam smirked in spite of the situation. "Neither am I." He had really been hoping he was wrong about her not leaving them their own weapons. The weight of the sword pulled on his arm, making his still healing side ache. He gave a couple practice swings and sighed.

"I've got your right." Dean stepped in closer to him, seeing the drag on Sam's arm.

"Now you will fight, warriors." The Hysminae drew her own sword and advanced slowly on them. "Defeat me and you shall be returned to your realm. Fail…" She chuckled. "Your souls will join the growing legion that make my heart beat." She placed a hand over her chest with a smile.

"Not gonna happen, she bitch." Dean looked over at Sam and gave a nod. Together they closed the distance with her. She raised her sword and instantly struck a blow at Sam, pushing him back. She rained three more blows down on his sword, driving his arm down and pressing her advantage on his wounded side. Dean growled and slammed his shield into her sword arm to knock her off balance and away from his brother. "Sammy?"

"I'm ok." Sam said, breathless. He swallowed the pain back and threw himself at her. He used his height to his advantage as she watched his sword, throwing his leg out to kick her right knee. She gave a startled, angry cry and dropped to her knee. Dean moved in to stab her and grunted in surprise when she rolled to her back and swept his legs from under him. He slapped into the ground on his back and ground his teeth against the pained cry that tried to escape.

The Hysminae was on her feet again in seconds and loomed over Dean. "No you don't!" Sam slammed his shield into her shoulder and knocked her off balance. He spun behind her and stabbed his sword at her unprotected back but she was faster than he expected. She turned and his strike glanced off the brace on her arm. She turned in under his shield and drove her elbow into his stomach. The air was knocked out of him. He managed to block the downward stroke of her sword with his own and grinned as Dean's head appeared over her shoulder.

Dean drove the hilt of his short sword down into the back of the Hysminae's neck. She went to her knees again.

"Down you go, bitch." Dean stabbed into her right side. He cried out as she thrust her own backwards under her arm and into his thigh.

"Dean!" Sam saw blood spatter from his brother's leg into the sand, coloring it like liquid rubies. He slammed his shield into her face, hearing the satisfying crunch of bone as her nose broke. She screamed and darted her left hand into Sam's side. Her fingers dug into the wound, ripping stitches and blood began to course down his side as agony threatened to black his vision out. Sam fought it. He turned his sword and in a desperate hope, slammed the pointed end of the hilt into her chest with all his remaining strength.

The Hysminae screamed in rage and pain as Sam ground the hilt into her chest. Her hand in his side spasmed and the pain shot straight into his head. Rather than give in, he pulled his hand back and slammed the hilt of the sword into her chest and the amulet again and this time heard something crack. He tumbled off her to lay beside her in the sand and pried her fingers from his skin.

"Sam?" Dean limped over to him with his sword pointing at the writhing Hysminae.

"Finish it." Sam told him and closed his eyes to focus on not passing out.

"You fight well…mortals." The Hysminae gasped. Blood flowed in a steady stream from the wound in her chest. "I find you…worthy." She let her head drop back as Dean kicked her sword out of her hand and knelt beside her. "I…look forward…to our next battle."

"Not gonna happen." Dean dug the blade of his sword into the open wound, ignoring her cries of pain and soon pulled the now cracked amulet into the light. He wiped blood from its surface, ignoring the disturbing warmth it still held from her body and the way it seemed to pulse in his hand. He laid it in the sand and smashed his shield's edge down on the jewel. It shattered beneath the impact; blood and crystal spraying outward.

"We will meet again." The Hysminae breathed and went still. Her body slowly faded from sight and Dean flopped back in the sand in relief.

"Holy crap." He groaned and startled when he felt hands on his leg. "Hey!"

"Lay still." Sam had pulled himself over to his brother and sat beside his leg. "This is gonna need stitches." He stripped off his outer shirt and wound it around Dean's blood soaked leg to staunch the bleeding from the puncture. When he finished he laid back with a moan, hand held to his side. "Think this will too." He watched Dean sit back up and sighed. "Poor Andrew. Guy never had a chance."

"Can't save 'em all, Sammy." Dean told him kindly. He looked around the arena and frowned. "I thought we were supposed to get sent home." As if on cue a brilliant light flared all around them, blinding them to everything. Dean reflexively darted a hand out, clamping it on his brother's leg so he wouldn't lose him. There was a deafening sound and then the light faded. Dean blinked furiously to clear his vision and shook his head in surprise; they were once more on the bridge where they had found Andrew.

"That was entertaining." Sam said weakly.

Dean let go of his leg and smiled. "Greek god? Toast." He turned to check on Sam and then stared in surprise. "Well I'll be damned."

"What?" Sam raised his head and followed Dean's hand. Ten feet away from them lay Andrew. "No way. Get me up."

"Hang on, tiger." Dean rolled his eyes and pulled himself up the railing, steadying Sam beside him as he staggered to his feet. "You fall over I'm not picking you up." Dean warned him as Sam hunched back over his side, threatening to go back down.

"I'm good. I've gotta see." Sam stumbled the ten feet to Andrew's body and dropped down next to him. "Andrew?" He ran a hand over the man's chest, marveling to find it intact. He'd been sure killing the Hysminae and removing the amulet would result in his death. He tapped Andrew's face and grinned when his eyes fluttered open. "Welcome back."

"Am I…is it…" Andrew lurched up from the ground and ran a hand over his own chest. "Oh my god. I'm alive! How am I alive?"

"Gift horse pal." Dean said and chuckled. "I wouldn't check the teeth if I were you."

"Is it really gone now?" He looked up at them hopefully.

Sam nodded. "It's gone. So is the amulet."

"Come on, sasquatch." Dean leaned down and took Sam's arm, pulling him to his feet. "Go home, Andrew and uh…no more freaky Greek jewelry, ok?"

Andrew gave a startled laugh. "Uh, yeah. I promise." He stood up and took a good look at them. "You guys are a mess."

"We're good." Dean turned Sam toward the waiting Impala, right where he'd left her. "Have a nice life."

"Thanks! Thank you!" Andrew called after them.

"Dude, you're leaning on me." Sam groaned as the pain in his side washed over him again.

"You're leaning on me." Dean grumbled. "I'm just holding you up." He was leaning on Sam. The stab wound in his thigh was a new level of misery with every step. Sam's green flannel shirt had long since gone to red where it wrapped around his thigh.

"There's eleven more." Sam said suddenly.

"Huh? Eleven what? You talking in your head again and forgetting to share?" Dean righted them both as they listed dangerously to one side.

"Amulets of the Hysminae." Sam gave him a sideways look. "Legend said there were twelve of them. That's what she meant when she said her next battle."

Dean stumbled them to a halt against the car and rolled his eyes. "Awesome." He opened the passenger door and helped Sam slide in; he was almost out on his feet. He shut the door and used the hood of the car to get him around to the driver's side. "Beware of Greeks bearing gifts. Might be a freakin homicidal amazon in an amulet. You know they took that whole Trojan horse thing way too far." Sam chuckled and stared at him. "What? Yes, I've read a book. Try not to have an aneurism."

Sam laughed softly and let his head fall back to the seat as the engine rumbled to life. "Can't picture you curling up with the Aeneid."

Dean smirked and pulled off the bridge. "Well, there was this girl…"

"Oh of course there was." Sam groaned and rolled his eyes.

"Dude, she had the biggest…"

"Stop! I do NOT want to hear about her breasts." Sam curled over his side and let his head thump into the window. "Don't think I can take it."

"Brain in the gutter, dude." Dean laughed. "I was going to say glasses."

"Uh huh." Sam shook his head, grinning. "Like you saw anything above her chest."

Dean shrugged and turned on the radio. "She always kept them hanging off the neck of her shirt. Not my fault."

Sam laughed and groaned at the pain it caused and laughed again as Queen and 'Fat Bottomed Girls' came out of the radio. "You're hopeless, man."

"They make the rockin' world go 'round, Sammy." Dean sang cheerfully and turned up the volume, happy that they'd finished the job and were both alive and in one piece, more or less. "Sing it with me, Sammy."

"No."

"You know you want to."

"No. I don't." Sam turned a mock glare at him.

"Ride em, cowboys!" Dean beat on the steering wheel along with the beat.

Sam rolled his eyes again, laughing softly. "I think I miss the Hysminae."

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_The End._


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